The Fire You Don't See: How Standard Operating Procedures protect your creative energy and keep your business burning bright

There's a photo from years ago, I think it was the Spring of 2018.

I'm setting up for a beer dinner—long table by the windows, late afternoon light pouring in, fresh flowers, mason jars waiting to be filled with iced water, freshly printed menus tucked into the black striped bistro napkins. It's the kind of scene that photographs beautifully. The kind of moment that makes people say, "This looks like fun work.”

And honestly? It was fun and beautiful. I loved that work.

But what the photo didn't show—what it never could—was everything that happened before that moment. The three-page checklist I'd worked from that morning with my team. The vendor confirmations sent days earlier. The ticket sales signed, sealed, and delivered. The timeline I'd built so I knew exactly when to start each task. The systems that meant I wasn't guessing, wasn't scrambling, wasn't just hoping it would all come together—along with the knowing I might have to breathe life into a different outcome if something went awry.

And that was just my part. The chef and the kitchen crew had their own systems running in parallel—prep lists, timing sequences, plating standards—all working together to create something that felt seamless.

It might have looked effortless. It wasn't.

But I didn't always work this way. For a long time, I thought systems would make things feel too rigid, too corporate. I wanted to stay creative, adaptable, spontaneous. What I didn't realize was that without a foundation, I was just constantly putting out fires.

The events were just one piece. We had systems for everything—daily service, opening and closing procedures, training new staff, handling customer questions, farmers market set-up, the coffee program, managing inventory. The unglamorous work that made the beautiful work possible, day after day.

We consume information with our eyes. We see the romance—the artisan bakery with perfectly rustic bread on the rack, the flower farm at golden hour, the jeweler shaping silver by hand. We fall in love with the visible work, the beautiful work.

But we don't see the foundation underneath. The unglamorous systems that make it all possible.

SOPs—Standard Operating Procedures.

Not sexy. But essential.

Keep the Fire Lit

I like to think of it as building a fire.

You need a solid foundation. Something you can tend to, add to, keep burning—without constantly starting over from scratch. You need others to understand how it works and why it works, so you're not the only one who can keep it lit.

Because when that foundation is strong, you get to focus on the work that matters. You get to post the beautiful photos without the backend panic. You get to create instead of scramble.

The most romantic thing you can do for your creative business isn't another styled shoot.

It's building the boring, reliable systems that protect your energy and let the beauty breathe.

Good systems let you maintain momentum instead of scrambling daily. A solid foundation, easy to tend, always lighting the way.

When I was running my business, I didn't always have this clarity. There were seasons when I was restarting the fire—reinventing processes, answering the same questions over and over, carrying everything in my head because I hadn't taken the time to write it down.

It was exhausting. And it kept me from doing the work I actually loved.

SOPs changed that. Not all at once, but gradually. One documented process at a time.

They weren't complicated. They were just clear instructions for how things got done—repeatedly, and well. The recipe for operations.

SOPs aren't Sexy. They're Essential

The systems behind beautiful work rarely make it to the feed. But they're what keep you in business.

I learned: you can't scale on vibes alone. You can't build something sustainable if every task requires you to reinvent the wheel, if every decision drains your creative energy, if stepping away means everything falls apart.

SOPs give you consistency. They make delegation possible. They protect the quality of your work even when you're tired, distracted, or stretched thin.

They're the infrastructure that holds everything else up.

Document So Others Can Help

When processes live only in your head, you become the bottleneck.

I used to think I was being efficient by keeping everything internal—by just knowing how things worked. But what I was actually doing was making myself indispensable in a way that trapped me.

The moment I started writing things down—how to onboard a new hire, how to make the perfect lavender London fog, how to set up for an event, how to handle a customer question—I created space. For others to step in. For myself to step back.

It wasn't about control. It was about trust.

And trust requires clarity.

Systems Protect Your Creative Energy

The less you're firefighting logistics, the more you can actually create.

That's the point of doing this work. Not to make your business feel corporate or rigid, but to give yourself freedom. To spend your energy on what lights you up instead of what drains you.

I think about the bees often. They don't rush. They don't force outcomes. They plan carefully, communicate constantly, adapt when needed. Their systems aren't restrictive—they're what allow the hive to thrive.

Your business can work the same way.

Let the Boring Work Do its Job

Reliable systems give you freedom to focus on what you love—and to share it without the backend panic.

You don't need to systematize everything at once. Start small. Pick one repetitive task that drains you—maybe it's invoicing, or client onboarding, or event prep. Document it the next time you do it. Refine as you go. Test it with someone else if you can.

Then build from there.

The goal isn't perfection. It's sustainability.

Here's what I know now, after years of building, running, and eventually selling a business:

Mastery doesn't come from knowing everything. It comes from creating the conditions that allow you—and your work—to flourish.

SOPs are part of that foundation. They're the quiet, unglamorous work that makes the beautiful work possible.

They're the fire you tend so the light keeps burning.

And maybe that's the real romance: building something that sustains you, so you don't burn out trying to keep it alive.

There's still so much to learn. And so much we can build—when we keep the foundation strong, the systems clear, and the fire lit.

If you're ready to build the systems that will sustain your business—but aren't sure where to start—I'd love to help. Reach out! Let's tend the fire together.